


pulvis et umbra sumus (we are dust and shadow)

by sinequanon



Series: rebellion and revolution [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Dimensions, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: Ichigo isn’t dealing well with being strictly human after his final battle with Aizen. It seems like everyone else has either moved on, or is ignoring him, and he starts to feel like maybe he isn’t needed anymore. After all, who is Kurosaki Ichigo if he can no longer protect?





	pulvis et umbra sumus (we are dust and shadow)

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled with both the tags and the summary for this one. It’s a story that explores identity in an odd sort of way, and I’m not sure how else to describe it. I tagged for depression because although it’s not really discussed, Ichigo’s initial mindset _is_ negative and it inadvertently drives his experiences for the rest of the story.
> 
> Also, I tweaked the idea of the zanpakuto just a bit, in that there is a kind of separate dimension of sorts where the spirits first exist before they are claimed, and can return to at will. The details aren’t important to the story, but the location is, at least to Ichigo.

I.

Ichigo would have liked to say that he was adjusting well to being completely human, but that would have been a lie. There was a part of him that was proud of Karin and the fact that she was trying to follow in his footsteps, but there was an equal part of him that couldn't help but feel a little betrayed that everyone seemed to be moving on without him. After all, there were only so many excuses his family could make for leaving him to eat dinner alone again before Ichigo decided that maybe they just didn't want to be around him anymore; the fact that they were undoubtedly at Urahara’s only made the loneliness sharper.

More than once, Ichigo had thought about confiding in Tatsuki, Mizuro, or Kiego about his feelings, but what good would it do him to tell them about a world that he himself was no longer a part of? And, while Ginjo's proposal about Xcution was somewhat appealing, even he wasn't quite so depressed as to believe that the Fullbringer’s offer didn't have strings attached.

It still didn't stop him from thinking about it, though, probably longer than he should have.

The possibility of having power again was very tempting, and even if he couldn't go back to Soul Society, at least he'd have the power to protect his home, right?

Every time he watched his former friends run out of class without him, Ichigo selfishly wanted to stand up and yell that they wouldn't even have been able to fight hollows without his crazy reiatsu in the first place, but he wasn't going to put strangers in danger just because he sometimes felt like punching the others into unconsciousness.

Something was going to have to happen soon, or Ichigo was going to go insane. It wasn't fair that he had fought for everyone else, but now that just an ordinary human, no one seemed willing to fight for him. It hurt, even more than Ichigo was willing to admit to himself.

Ultimately, it was likely a combination of Ichigo's predisposition towards martyrdom and his growing feelings of abandonment that led him to run into the burning building that day, rather than away from it; and what made the teenager not move as quickly as he might have to get out of the way of the falling beam.

It wasn't like anyone was around to chide him for it, anyway.

  
II.

_My name is Kurosaki Ichigo_.

_I am eighteen-years-old._

_I have two sisters, Karin and Yuzu._

_I am a substitute Shinigami._

_My dad’s name is Isshin, and he runs the Kurosaki--_

Ichigo stumbled weakly over an uneven stretch of ground, and his knees hit the dirt before he'd even realized he was falling forward. After a moment to catch his breath, Ichigo pushed himself up again with his hands, certain that he was usually much stronger than this, even if no particular instances of that strength came to mind.

He needed to keep moving. Just because he hadn't seen anyone for a long while didn't mean he was safe. He needed to find somewhere in this strange city where he could rest. His steps may not have been steady, but he wasn’t going to stop now.

_Abandon your fear, Ichigo. Move forward and never stop. Retreat and you will age, hesitate and you will die_.

Those words had been ringing in his head ever since he'd first woken up a week ago, and the young man clung to them as he tried to figure out what was happening to him--a task that was getting ever more difficult as the days passed and the fuzzy feeling in his head didn’t subside.

Keeping a more careful eye on his surroundings, he began reciting his list of facts once again.

_My name is Kurosaki Ichigo._

_I am eighteen-years-old._

_I have two sisters, Karin and Yuzu._

_I am a substitute Shinigami._

_My dad’s name is Isshin, and he runs--_

_He runs--_

_He--_

Ichigo paused, trying to will himself to remember what it was that his dad did, before scowling in both frustration and defeat. True, it was just a tiny detail, but Ichigo had lost so many details over the past week that he barely had any memories left, and who knew what would happen if he lost them all?

A flash of purple caught the young man's attention, and he ducked into a yellow building with the number six on the front, hoping that the samurai in question hadn't seen him this time.

If he could just get some rest, maybe something would start making sense.

<> <>

Kurosaki Isshin stared down at his son's face--abnormally pale against the hospital sheets--and ruefully cursed Ichigo's heroic tendencies. It was a miracle that the falling beam hadn't killed him outright, though Isshin found it difficult to be grateful for that small mercy when his son was unconscious with no sign of waking.

“Yoruichi took the girls home for the night; she’ll no doubt stay with them to make sure they eat and sleep,” a somber voice said from the door, and Isshin didn't bother to look up as Kisuke entered the room, the sound of the man's cane echoing loudly against the hospital floor. “You should do the same. I’ll stay with Ichigo for a while.”

“I'll be fine,” Isshin muttered gruffly, pushing away the other man’s offered hand. He’d already let his son slip away from him twice: once, after his mother’s death; and the second time, by thinking that Ichigo needed space to heal after losing his powers. He wasn’t about to let his son slip away from him a third time.

Kisuke took in the nearly lifeless form of his favorite student, and the exhaustion that lined his old friend’s face, and his heart clenched in sympathy.

“Go home, Isshin, just for a while. I'll stay with him, he won't be alone,” he promised.

When Isshin hesitated, Kisuke added, “You'll be no good to Ichigo if you collapse as well.”

It took a few minutes more, but Isshin finally agreed to rest, and Kisuke settled in for a night of waiting.

<> <>

Senbonzakura watched from his hiding place as the spirit of Kurosaki Ichigo staggered into his master’s division and out of sight of anyone else who might be watching. He knew that none of the other captains’ or lieutenants’ zanpakuto would harm the young man, but Ichigo was already in a vulnerable state and it would not do to startle him again.

There was a faint displacement in the air, and Zabimaru appeared next to him, solemn looks on their normally expressive faces. They had been the ones to first approach Ichigo upon his arrival in their realm, and had seen firsthand the decline in their wielder’s friend over the past few weeks.

“He's getting worse. He won't even let us approach him now,” Saru said softly as Renji’s spirits settled next to him. “I don't think he recognizes us anymore,” Hebi added sadly.

Senbonzakura wanted to comfort them, but what could he say? All he knew was that it was dangerous for the young man to remain in this realm, but he had no idea how to help him, and most of the other spirits were keeping their distance out of respect for Ichigo’s fragile state.

“He isn't meant to be here,” a new voice chimed in. Sakanade stalked forward, gleaming eyes focused intently on the building that her wielder’s friend had entered. “I can only assume that the Shinigami are unaware of the situation, or else they would not leave their young savior in such a state.” The former exile’s zanpakuto turned and narrowed her eyes at Senbonzakura. “You should go talk to him.”

Underneath his mask, the samurai spirit’s eyes widened in surprise. He was no great friend of Kurosaki Ichigo.

“You are not likely to act out irrationally,” Sakanade explained when he objected (all while pointedly ignoring Renji’s zanpakuto’s vocal protests), “and Ichigo respects Byakuya. He might still listen to you. He runs from me, and my foolish wielder is ignoring me at the moment.” She smirked. “Plus, he's hiding in _your_ division.”

The samurai sighed. If he complained now, Sakanade would no doubt spout off some nonsense about the sanctity of a division’s grounds--which they both knew that the spirit would willfully ignore if they were in Seireitei--and Senbonzakura would end up dealing with the problem anyway.

(Not that the young man was a problem--this was exactly why Senbonzakura was the worst possible zanpakuto to help--)

Senbonzakura had a feeling that Kurosaki Ichigo's choice of hiding places was mostly one of convenience, and not out of any buried affection for his master. Still, both he and Byakuya admired the young man for his courage and dedication to the ones he loved, and the zanpakuto was willing to help Ichigo in any way possible, but…

“Surely, there are others who would be better suited to this task.”

“Perhaps,” Sakanade conceded, “but they are not here. You are. Help him, and keep him calm, while we try to find a way to send him home.”

The older spirit frowned at that--no doubt thinking of the best way to attract her idiot wielder’s attention--and for the first time, the samurai could see the concern clearly in Sakanade’s eyes.

Senbonzakura answered his fellow spirit the only thing that he could. “Kurosaki Ichigo will be safe with me,” he promised.

<> <>

_My name is Kurosaki Ichigo._

_I am eighteen-years-old._

_I have two sisters, Karin and Yuzu._

_I--_

_I want to go home_.

The thought came unbidden, and Ichigo froze at the sudden insight, even as he continued to make himself comfortable inside the unfamiliar office. The faint scent of sakura on the air was surprisingly grounding, and it cleared his head just enough for him to remember that he didn't belong in this place with all of these strange-looking people roaming around. It wasn't that he felt threatened, exactly, but there was a sense of wrongness in the air that reminded him constantly that he was somewhere the living were not meant to be.

(Though the fact that he knew that he _wasn't_ in the land of the living anymore was somehow disconcerting in itself.)  
  
It made no sense, being comfortable in an unfamiliar office in an unfamiliar places surrounded by unfamiliar people, but the sakura was doing a remarkable job of making him feel safe.

He was so wrapped up in the unexpected sensation that he didn't notice the other person in the room until Senbonzakura was standing in front of him. Ichigo startled, but he didn't run; there was no way he could get by the samurai blocking the door, even if he had been in shape to do so.

“Kurosaki Ichigo,” the spirit said formally. “My name is Senbonzakura. I am most pleased that you feel secure in my master's office; I assure you that you will be safe here. We are looking for a way to return you to your body, so that you may recover from your ordeal properly.”

It occurred to the spirit then that the idea of not being inside his body might be troubling for Ichigo, yet he ignored the comment in favor of staring suspiciously at the zanpakuto. “I don't know you,” Ichigo said warily, taking care to keep the desk between them. “How do I know that you're not going to attack me?”

“Have you been attacked thus far during your stay here?” he asked. When Ichigo faltered, he pressed forward. “Pardon me for saying so, but you are lost, and unwell. Please let me assist you.”

For a second, it seemed like the young man would acquiesce, but even as Senbonzakura watched, it was if a shadow passed over the human’s face, and  
Ichigo lost a bit more of himself.

The zanpakuto swept forward to catch the young man as he staggered and fell, and Senbonzakura took barely a moment to second guess his actions before transporting them both somewhere safer.

A few moments later, the pair appeared outside the replica of a familiar estate, and the sword spirit took the time to examine his young charge. At first, Ichigo’s face was still frighteningly blank, but then his eyelids slowly fluttered, and Senbonzakura would admit to heaving a small sigh of relief at the sight. He had no idea what the young man might have lost in the past few minutes, but at least he was still conscious.

Ichigo blinked up at the man before him in confusion. He seemed vaguely familiar, but the young man couldn't figure out where he might have seen the samurai before. Despite the mask, though, the samurai’s hands were gentle as they helped him sit up.

“Where are we?”

<> <>

“They came to talk to me about sending Ichigo to long-term care today. Thankfully, the girls weren't there, but...what do I do, Kisuke? His body’s healed, but he won't wake up.” Isshin took a shuddering breath. “Sometimes, I think he doesn't _want_ to wake up.”

“Someone would let us know if he appeared in Soul Society,” the shopkeeper assured him, but he threw his fan over his face so his friend couldn't see his worried frown.

Isshin didn't bother hiding his concern. “Only if they could sense him. There's no guarantee that Ichigo would get his powers back if he died right now, and...at least in the living world, he still has a life to live. I'm not sure what a powerless Ichigo would do in Soul Society; I'm not sure he could survive it.”

Kisuke wanted to argue, and say that _of course_ Ichigo could rise above any obstacle he met, but he was starting to wonder if they had all (he, the Kurosakis, Soul Society, his friends), in an attempt to lighten one burden from their savior, had placed another, far heavier one on his back instead.

Unfortunately, Kisuke was no longer sure that Ichigo would survive it, either.

  
III.

Kuchiki Byakuya stood in his proper place during the captains’ meeting and tried to ignore the strange feeling in his stomach and the way his thoughts kept drifting to a certain orange-haired substitute Shinigami.

The lack of focus was disconcerting to Byakuya, but he knew better than to show weakness in front of his fellow captains--if only because a certain handful would tease him about it later. Kyouraku and Ukitake both noticed, if the occasional sideways glances in his direction were any indication, but thankfully kept their concern to themselves. Unfortunately for him, however, the meeting dragged longer than the Kuchiki noble had anticipated, and by the time they were dismissed, the sixth division captain had just enough energy to shunpo back to his office before collapsing into his chair and letting his forehead hit his desk with a thud. His head throbbed, his body ached, and every time he thought about Kurosaki Ichigo--whom he had no reason to be thinking about at all--the unease in his stomach only grew.

(He might have thought about that correlation more, if only his head didn't hurt so much.)

Byakuya wasn't sure how long he sat there before his lieutenant's concerned voice broke through the fog in his brain.

"Is something the matter, Captain? Should I get somebody from the Fourth?"

Byakuya lifted his head and squinted at Renji in a way that did nothing to alleviate his subordinates’ concern, but the captain was too tired to care beyond a shadow of his usual glare. The story of Byakuya’s unlikely malady must already be spreading through Seireitei; considering that Renji _should_ have been out all day, running errands, his mere presence in the office was suspicious. Still, his lieutenant was also be one of the most likely candidates to answer the question currently vexing him. "This will likely be an odd question, but have either you or Rukia spoken to Kurosaki recently?"

Renji frowned, though whether it was at the question or the particularly alarming shade of his captain’s face, or both, Byakuya wasn’t certain. "There's no way for us to contact him, remember? To be honest, we’ve thought about going down anyway, but Rukia thinks it would be cruel to let Ichigo see us in gigai. Why do you ask?”

"I--" the captain gasped as a wave of coldness burst through his veins, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness. A moment later, Byakuya could feel Renji's hands on his arms and the other man's voice in his ears, and he gratefully used the contact to anchor himself to awareness. Something was wrong ( _though not with him, he knew_ ) just as Byakuya also instinctively understood that any trip to the Fourth would waste time better spent finding Ichigo. He told Renji, and Unohana, and anyone else who was listening what needed to be done, but no one seemed to listen.

(He fought and struggled and tried to tell them [he didn't _care_ how undignified he looked], and was rewarded with an advanced sleeping kidou for his troubles.)

Rumors about the sixth division captain and his strange affliction swept through Seireitei like wildfire, but no one was truly concerned until a week passed and the man showed no signs of waking. Unohana spent the next captains’ meeting sharing what little information she knew with the rest of them, including Byakuya’s odd fixation on Ichigo.

“Perhaps someone should go to the living world and check on the boy, just to be safe?” Ukitake suggested. “No doubt Rukia-san would be willing to make the trip, even Kurosaki-san can no longer see her.”

Other captains made similar suggestions, both because they all knew that Kuchiki was not the type to panic over nothing, and because they were all curious about how Ichigo was doing, but the Captain Commander was unmoved.

“No,” Yamamoto said firmly. “The boy should be left to his human life; we will not interfere in the matters of the living. Unless we learn of a specific threat to Soul Society, the matter is dropped.”

<> <>

Byakuya opened his eyes to an inner world that was much darker and more somber than usual. For a moment, the captain worried that his illness was a reflection of his zanpakuto’s health but a few minutes of searching found Senbonzakura looking the same as ever, staring into the distance from his favorite spot in the garden.

“Senbonzakura?”

The zanpakuto glanced up at Byakuya’s approach and let out a relieved sigh. “Master,” he greeted, “it is good you have come. You have no doubt been experiencing some unpleasantness over the past few days. I apologize, but it was unavoidable.”

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance of Byakuya’s normally placid inner world, startling the captain. “What is happening?”

“We have a guest, Master,” the spirit admitted, as he stood and led a still-dazed Byakuya into the house. “I am sorry for the intrusion, but Kurosaki-san could no longer remain in the spirit world without it being irreparably damaging to him, and we could find no other alternative.”

Byakuya felt his stomach give another swoop of unease at the name that had so recently troubled his thoughts. “Kurosaki Ichigo is _here_?”

It was unprecedented (and before meeting Ichigo, Byakuya would have said impossible) for one person to visit another's inner world.

Senbonzakura nodded gravely as he came to a stop in front of the closed guest room doors. “We are unsure of how he arrived in our realm, but he is not well, and we spirits are unable to fix it.”

“It is not safe for him here, either, without reiatsu to protect him,” Byakuya countered in alarm.

“Just so. But Shinigami are less dense in spirit particles than zanpakuto, which will slow the decline until a solution may be found. Please do not be alarmed if Kurosaki-san does not remember you,” he added, just before he opened the door.

It took Byakuya a moment to spot Ichigo from his place next to the window, despite the brightness of the room. The Kuchiki head had never been so glad of his lessons in decorum than at that moment, if only because he managed not to gasp aloud at the sight of the young man before him.

Kurosaki Ichigo, hero of the Winter War, looked somehow _less_ than than Byakuya remembered. It had nothing to do with the borrowed clothes Ichigo was wearing, or the gash on his head, but whatever it was, it left the stoic captain staring helplessly at his guest until Ichigo finally noticed him.

"Hello,” the younger man greeted. “Do I know you?"

Despite his zanpakuto’s earlier warning, the question still came as a shock. The young man sitting before him—aside from his gaunt appearance—reminded him of the careful, placid way that Rukia presented herself at clan gatherings. Such a stark deviation from Ichigo’s normal personality made something in Byakuya’s chest ache. He tried to gather himself quickly, but his discomfort surely showed on his face, if Ichigo's sudden frown was any indication.  
  
"My name is Kuchiki Byakuya, and you are in my...home,” he added hurriedly when the younger man's eyes grew troubled at his lack of response.

Ichigo startled at Byakuya’s choice of words, but even as the captain watched, the younger man's face smoothed over into its earlier serenity. "Oh, I'm sorry,” he said lightly. “Would you like me to leave? I haven't had much chance to look around, but it's very peaceful here. If you don’t mind, I think I'd like to stay.”

Byakuya thought of the thunder rumbling in the distance and frowned at his companion. "You seem to be injured."

"Hmm," Ichigo agreed, touching his head lightly. "It's fine, though. It doesn't hurt."

“May I take a look at it?”

Ichigo nodded, and Byakuya bent forward to look at the gash, which ran almost from forehead to nose and had the dark tint of infection around it.

“How do you feel, Kurosaki-san?” Byakuya asked, prodding the injury carefully and watching for his companion’s reaction.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, “It doesn’t hurt.” And once again, Byakuya was struck by the _wrongness_ of their situation. Ichigo had said those sane words often over the course of the war, but always with the accompanying scowl and attempts to shunpo away; nothing like the passivity he saw now.

“Can you tell me how you came to be with the zanpakuto?”

The young man's brow furrowed in concentration. “My name is Kurosaki Ichigo, I am eighteen-years-old...and your name is Kuchiki Byakuya,” he said slowly.

“Do you recall anything else?”

Ichigo paused. “Sometimes, I think I see people out if the corner of my eye, but that can't be, because no one else would come into your house, right?”

Byakuya spared a thought for his zanpakuto, would no doubt stay hidden so as not to frighten Ichigo, but he couldn’t help but wonder who the other “people” were that Ichigo thought he was seeing. It didn’t matter, because the captain would be around to keep the other man safe.

<> <>

Byakuya was well-aware that Ichigo had the surprising ability to turn his dreams into realities; he just wasn't sure what that meant for their current situation, and that worried him. By all accounts, Ichigo should never have been able to reach Soul Society that first time, let alone rescue Rukia. He should not have been able to gain enough power, or gather enough allies, to defeat Aizen, yet he had. And he should not have been able to upend everything Byakuya had thought he stood for and shaken his moral foundations, and yet he had managed that as well.

Now, that same young man found himself trapped outside of the laws of the spirit world; Byakuya would have marveled at it if the situation was not so dire.

(Unfortunately for the both of them, Byakuya was finding the situation less dire as time went on.)

Despite Ichigo's memory issues and their overall circumstances, the Kuchiki noble found it increasingly pleasant to be in the young man's company, speaking of everything and nothing. At first, the captain spent time each day questioning Ichigo about his memories, but over time, that practice waned in favor of other pursuits. It became easier for Byakuya to forget that he and Ichigo were trapped in his inner world, instead of living their respective lives. The rumble of thunder in the distance turned from an ominous warning to an expected background accompaniment to their afternoon strolls.

Without Senbonzakura's presence, the captain sometimes feared that the two of them would be lost to the empty lull that seemed to have enveloped Ichigo. It was effortless for Byakuya to take tea with his companion, or to sit in the gardens and chat about whatever Ichigo could remember on that day. The ease with which they fell into the routine should have alarmed Byakuya, but, more often than not, he found himself enjoying his new--if less than ideal--relationship with Kurosaki Ichigo.

Byakuya had no way to measure time in his inner world, but it was obvious that Ichigo was not improving, and the captain spent much of his time keeping a close eye on the younger man. He was so focused on his task, in fact, that it took much longer than it should have for Byakuya to realize that he was declining as well--his memory remained unchanged, but he found it more difficult to accomplish physical tasks, and he realized that they both needed to leave in order to properly recover.

A nearby rumble of thunder echoed his sentiment, followed by a rustle of black out of the corner of his eye, and the captain shivered.

<> <>

Byakuya waited until the pair were seated in the garden after their afternoon stroll to tell Ichigo of his plan. It had taken him a few days to decide the least traumatic way to expel them both from his inner world—time in which he had noticed his companion spent most of his time staring blankly at the horizon. He only spoke if Byakuya prompted him, and rarely moved unless he was led.

Even now, Ichigo was staring out into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes. Byakuya gently touched his wrist to bring the teenager's attention back to him.

"Ichigo, will you tell me how old you are?"

Ichigo frowned at him. “Why would you ask me such a strange question?”

“Please, indulge me. Can you give me your age?”

The younger man's brow furrowed, and Byakuya almost missed the way his eyes widened when he realized that he didn’t know the answer. "I--"

"We can no longer stay in this place,” Byakuya said, a roll of thunder echoing his words, “and I have been remiss in keeping you safe as I promised I would. I have foolishly allowed myself to indulge in our peacefulness together, at the risk of your health.”

“I don’t understand.”

Byakuya fought to keep the grimace from his face. “I know, and it is a grievous failure on my part that such a statement is true. But now is the time to fix my mistakes. I am going to put something in our tea tonight, to help us sleep, and when we wake up, we will be home.”

_Home_? Ichigo thought. There was something about that word. “Will you be there?”

Byakuya couldn’t say whether the Captain Commander would grant him leave to the human world, but he would not abandon the teenager to endure alone. Perhaps with Ichigo so much unlike himself at the moment, Byakuya could be the impulsive one for once? “I promise that I will come to you,” he vowed, holding out his hand. “Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation, Ichigo took Byakuya's hand.

<> <>

Ichigo was surprised to open his eyes in one of the back rooms of Urahara’s shop, and even more surprised to see three more beds in the room, each which seemed to hold a member of his family.

His head ached, and he couldn't quite remember how he had been injured, but he vaguely remembered the spirit world and Byakuya and--

“Son, can you hear me?” Ichigo blinked, and suddenly his father's concerned face hovered above his own. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” the man requested softly, sliding his hand into his son's.

Ichigo squeezed. “Dad?”

“Don't you worry, Ichigo,” he soothed, brushing his hand through his son's hair in a way that he hadn’t done in years. It was nice. “We’re going to have a talk soon, you and your sisters and I, but just rest for now. Everything will be clearer in the morning, you’ll see.”

Ichigo wanted to argue, but his eyelids closed almost without his permission, and he barely heard his father's, “welcome home, son,” before he drifted off to sleep.

<> <>

The next morning, Ichigo was enjoying what was possibly the world’s largest breakfast with a sister pressed against either side of him and his father and Urahara in front of him, when Tessai announced that they had a guest, and Kuchiki Byakuya walked in the room.

The noble looked as regal as ever, but Ichigo could see the tightness in his shoulders and the worry in his eyes that faded once he caught sight of Ichigo.

The two men stared at each other, awkward in way they hadn’t been with just the two of them, before Ichigo offered his friend a crooked smile and held out his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises, but I’m thinking about writing a little something Bleach-related for Halloween. I have a number of other things to get done before then, but maybe I’ll get lucky.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
